Reconsideration (Skiing)
by Art-Over-Matter
Summary: Some events that happen while Ian and Anthony attempt to ski lead them to reevaluate how they feel about each other. Ianthony fluff. Rated K plus for some coarse language.


_Why did I agree to this? _Ian wondered as he stepped out of the car into the cold, snowy air. He wasn't used to snow. He was a Californian.

"Oh, shit that's cold," Anthony said as he closed the passenger door. "Did I dress alright for this?"

Their friend Alex shrugged. "We'll see."

Somehow, Ian had been persuaded to fly to Colorado in the middle of winter in order to learn how to ski. He'd never really been interested in cross-country skiing—downhill, maybe, just not cross-country—but Alex Hanson, who used to live in LA, had invited them to come up for a weekend and he'd teach them how to ski. Anthony had been more into the idea than Ian, but he didn't want to refuse, so here he was in the 13-degree weather, with some rental skis he was about to try to use.

"Holy fuck," Anthony said as Alex handed him his skis. "How am I supposed to put these on?"

Alex chuckled. "That's not the hard part."

Once they all had their skis, they trudged out through the packed snow in order to put them on.

"All you have to do to put them on is step on the right place," Alex explained. "Some bindings have actual clips you use, but these are the simple kind." He stepped into his own skis with ease while Ian frowned at the long flat objects in front of him.

There were weird metal bars going across the bottom of his boots and grooves in the ski 'bindings,' so Ian assumed two and two equaled four and lined them up. As he put weight on it, he felt something shift underneath his foot and with a click, the ski was attached to him.

When they'd both gotten into their skis, Alex started to show them how to move around without using the poles.

"It's a lot like walking, really. You just don't lift your foot much. Your heel can come off the ski, but the whole ski shouldn't come off the snow."

The skis felt really heavy on Ian's feet at first, but the more he figured out how to balance on them, the easier it became. Life got even better once he was allowed to use the poles, but Alex said not to rely on them too much, because they were useless down a hill.

When they'd started down a trail, Ian and Anthony in the tracks made by the grooming machine and Alex sliding along in the middle of the trail, Anthony said, "Dude, did you see these skis? They have a triforce on them."

Ian frowned and turned to look back at Anthony's red-and-white skis. Sure enough, they had the little triangular shape right next to the word _Fischer._

"Cool. Mine don't—" As Ian had been looking behind him, his weight had shifted and his skis slid out from underneath him.

Anthony caught him under the arms, only to lose his own balance and land on his knees in the snow, Ian awkwardly leaned up against his stomach.

"Ow," Ian moaned. "Oof—sorry." He pulled himself off Anthony and managed to stand up. His heart was beating fast for some reason.

"Yeah," Anthony said, looking kind of embarrassed. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine."

They didn't say anything else for several minutes, until they came to the first downhill and Alex stopped to wait for them at the top.

"Now you get to learn how to snowplow."

"Snowplow?" Ian asked, wrinkling his nose.

"That's what they call the position you put your skis in to slow yourself down on a slope. So, you have to be out of the track to do this, and all you've gotta do is get your skis into a V, like this," he demonstrates by shifting the front tips of his skis together. "Just don't let the skis cross each other, 'cause then you're in big trouble."

"Naturally," Ian muttered.

"Come on, guys, this isn't even steep."

"It doesn't sound hard," Anthony said, shrugging and stepping out of the track to pass Ian.

By the time they'd both gone, Ian had completely failed to kick his skis into a V and had sailed down the actually-very-steep hill at an uncontrollable pace, only to fall on his ass once he'd come to a stop at the bottom. Anthony had succeeded in snowplowing, but had crossed his skis and done a face plant shortly afterward. It was all very hilarious to the three of them.

For most of the short route they took, they stuck together and no one fell over again. At about the last half mile, Alex asked if he could go ahead and actually get some semblance of exercise. Ian and Anthony agreed, as they didn't think they'd have any troubles going back what limited distance they had.

"Ah, fuck, there's another steep hill up here," Anthony said from ten feet in front of Ian. "I'm going to kill Alex for taking us on this route."

"Yeah," Ian agreed, too breathless to say any more.

Ian went down the hill first, and it was steep enough to be nerve-racking, though he still found it fun. He managed not to fall over, either.

He turned to give Anthony a thumbs-up when he was at the bottom, only to see that Anthony was already headed down. He was unintentionally aimed right for Ian, too.

Ian scrambled to try to get out of the way, but he was too late and, with a series of swearwords, the boys crashed into each other.

Ian landed flat on his back with Anthony on top of him. His right ski had gotten twisted in such a way that his ankle was starting to hurt.

He opened his eyes to see Anthony's face only a few inches from his, those chocolate-cinnamon eyes meeting Ian's with a steady, almost shy gaze.

"I kind of want to kiss you right now," Anthony said quietly. It seemed to dawn on him what he'd just said and his expression grew appalled.

But Ian just reached up with his gloved hand and pulled Anthony against him, kissing him and feeling kind of terrified about it.

It was actually…really nice. It was nice to kiss Anthony, though a part of Ian was feeling fatally awkward about it.

Ian put his hand on the side of Anthony's head and set his thumb on Anthony's throat, gently pushing him away. He opened his eyes to see Anthony looking at the snow behind Ian's head and blushing.

"Anthony?"

He looked at Ian with puppy dog eyes.

"You've gotta get off me. My ankle's killing me."

"Oh," Anthony said, laughing self-consciously. "Sorry." He moved off him, trying to untangle their skis.

Ian shifted so that his ankle was more comfortable and finally managed to stand up. He helped Anthony up.

They stood together in silence for about half a minute, fidgeting slightly.

"I have no idea what that was," Ian said, feeling awkward as he brushed himself off.

"Nor do I, but…I kind of want to, uh...do it again," Anthony said, looking up from the ground to Ian.

"Me too," Ian said, not believing he was actually feeling this way about his best friend.

Anthony lifted Ian's chin with a finger and kissed him again, just briefly, on the lips. Then he turned away and began skiing again.

Ian took a minute to regain his breath—for some reason, he felt really worked up—and headed after him.

After a few minutes of skiing in silence, keeping a good several-yard distance between himself and Anthony, Ian finally decided to catch up.

He came up alongside Anthony and, without looking at him, asked, "What did that mean?"

Anthony shook his head. Ian suspected he didn't want to talk about it. "I don't know. But I think…I think maybe we shouldn't tell anyone about it."

Ian nodded. "And maybe we shouldn't do it again."

Anthony frowned, silent for a moment, then reluctantly nodded. "Yeah, you're right. It's just…no. We can't be like that."

"It would be too weird," Ian sighed. He figured they were probably almost back to where Alex was waiting, so he said, with a small smile, "You're a good kisser, though, Anthony."

Anthony blushed and smiled. ●


End file.
